SuperZero (13 page)

Now, remember that I had, at that point of time, absolutely no idea what had happened in the city. Blank only reported it much later. So I had no clue about evil egg-shaped men, killer bees, kidnapping, and all that. I ran back, feeling absolutely on top of the world. My superpowers were here! I was finally a full-fledged superhero!

I was all ready to show off.

Disappointingly, the streets were deserted—not a single person around. I recalled there suddenly being one huge rush getting out of the zoo because everyone seemed to be panicking. They had said something about police calls and having to go home and staying locked up . . . I now wondered what all that had been about.

It was a long way back from the zoo—should I go to the hospital—or home—or to school? I stood at the crossroads. No really, I meant the crossroads when the yellow traffic light spoke, ‘So you found them?'

Blank? And found what? I squinted up at the yellow light to see the Fly sitting up there. He buzzed down and
alighted on my shoulder. ‘You found your superpowers finally, right?'

‘How'd you know?'

‘You're walking differently. Your head's held up high.'

I smiled. ‘I found them, yup. Like you said, I AM super after all! I can control things with my mind; I can make things fly or bend or double up. I can make caps jam on kids' heads, I—'

‘Whoa! Stop it right there.' The Fly shook his head gravely. ‘One of the rules of superheroism is you never use it for the bad, selfish, silly things, okay? It's a code of honour.'

‘But,' I said sheepishly, after a while, ‘what exactly is the IT?'

‘It sounds like molecular manipulation to me—' the Fly began.

‘Molly-what?'

‘You're somehow able to make changes to things on a molecular level—change their shapes and abilities, and very, very few superheroes have that power. I know, in fact, only one very great superhero who had that, and he disappeared.'

‘But he is . . .' I stopped. I didn't want to let out Gra's secret. Not to the Fly. Not to anyone.

As we walked along the street, a voice rose out shrilly: ‘Will I be bitten to bittereens by billions of bees?'

The voice came from a TV in the window of a large
department store with many TVs and washing machines in its display window. The Fly and I turned to look. The TV screen showed something that looked like a reality show from Mars—someone in a police helmet and a yellow raincoat was holding hands with a short oval-shaped man in a space suit who was holding another pair of only hands (Blank?). Over them, a huge black cloud of bees hovered, and through the buzzing, I could hear the raincoat lady scream: ‘Good people everywhere, you are about to witness the murder of the Voice of your City, er, that is, me, at the hands of a shark called Eggster and his tiny flying sharks!'

‘Flying sharks?' I frowned. ‘I was only away for a day. When did flying sharks attack our city?'

The Fly said, ‘Ahem, well, not really sharks. That's Tara Rumpum and that's the Eggster, who's emerged after thirty years to attack us with bees that sting people and make them bloat and burst. Everyone's locked indoors, and the Superhero School teachers are all poisoned and sick. Now the only thing that can save us is if Eggster finds the . . .'

Tara Rumpum's screeches cut in, ‘If only anyone could find our yesteryears' hero, the great Grazor, and bring him over, the award-winning news reporter—me—could be set free! Do any of you good people know where the Great Grazor is hiding?'

The Grazor? I paled. They couldn't find Gra and feed him to the bees. They had no idea how old and potty he'd
become. It wasn't fair. He couldn't fight back now.

It was up to me. I turned to the Fly and straightened my shoulders. ‘I am going to save the city. I am going to molly-er-molly-er . . .'

I saw hundreds of images of a superboy stare back at me, and then I was off.

As I walked closer to where the action unrolled, the swarm of bees seemed to sense me. They turned like a big black tornado and began to move in my direction. I walked on, desperately thinking of what thing I could manipulate to protect myself—fountains again?

And then, as in times of crisis, I thought of my mom, who, when boiling mad, was a match for any number of bees, and I remembered her collection of boxes. She saved every box and every string. She never chucked anything out (‘What if this is needed one day?'). Right you are, Mom.

Focusing hard, feeling the centre of my forehead throb, I tensed myself and willed my superpower to work, work, work (after all, I had to draw something over from a pretty long way off). And just when those bees zeroed in on me, the largest box ever—a gigantic refrigerator carton—came flying over and settled over me. Nice! The bees buzzed around, frustrated.

The sharp eyes of Eggster were the first to pick me out. He shouted, ‘Am I dreaming, or has this city gone completely nuts? First the boy in patches, then the deaf mummy, then a hysterical woman talking to the air, and now a walking refrigerator?'

‘I have come to save the city!' I announced loudly through my cardboard box.

Tara Rumpum shouted in glee, ‘Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it a fridge? Heroes come in strange shapes and sizes nowadays. Good people, is this finally . . . the Grazor?' She turned to me: ‘Are you the Grazor?'

‘No, but I am SuperZero!' I announced, and there was a yelp and Blank's shocked eyebrows appeared. He said, ‘SuperZero, go home! This is much too dangerous for you.'

‘Blank,' I said proudly, though it was a bit muffled coming through that cardboard box. ‘Blank, now YOU may go home. Thanks for the help so far. Now hand it over to a real superhero.'

‘Haha, a real hero, this cardboard box.' Eggster laughed loudly, and reached out to tug off my cardboard carton, thereby having to leave at least one hand. Blank got free and immediately disappeared again. Not bad, one saved!

‘I am SuperZero,' I shouted to the camera. ‘I am going to save the world. Watch how!'

‘City, not world,' whispered Blank.

‘Oh okay, the city, I am going to save the city,' I said loudly.

‘Who are you?' Eggster snapped. ‘Your box says you are Frost-Free. Are you a freezer? Or are you the Grazor?
Because then you and I have a fight coming up.'

‘I am not the Grazor, but . . .'

‘I don't believe you. How do we know? Take off the box and show us your face!' Eggster barked.

‘All right. You want to see who I am?' And I pulled that box right off me to show my face on TV—everyone would know who I was finally. There was a gasp! From Tara Rumpum, who said, ‘The bullshit boy!'

Blank gasped too. ‘No, SuperZero, no. Now the bees will get you! That was his evil plan.'

Eggster threw the cardboard carton away, and stomped on it. He began to laugh as the bees finally zoomed in on me.

I couldn't think outside the box (yes, yes, it's true). So I charged off, as fast as I could, with a horde of bees following, Tara Rumpum in her raincoat and high heels running after us, dragging a camera and recording it all.

Later when I saw the news footage, I must admit it was hide-your-face embarrassing. There I was, a supposed superhero, running down the street, my cape flying, my yellow duckie briefs flapping, with a cloud of bees chasing me.

I will tell you how it went on the news.

Tara Rumpum: ‘The barracuda bees with jaws of steel are closing in on our victim, who will soon be stung, swelling up and bursting right on your TV screen. He looks like he's running towards certain death, towards a violent end, towards . . . a dog?'

There was a crazy happy barking, and all of a sudden, right out of nowhere, came BigaByte. I would have hugged him—I'd missed him so much. But BigaByte, instead of running towards me, began to run away from me.

Huh?

So I chased him, while the bees chased me, and Tara Rumpum chased us all in her high red heels, and the rolling camera rolled after us all.

‘BigaByte, slow down,' I yelled. ‘Where are you headed?' The roads looked familiar. He ran on and I followed him, not knowing why exactly I followed him except that I trusted this waddling sausage. So we ran down twisting lanes, with tall walls on either side and an increasingly strong stench hovering around. And then I got it!

BigaByte, the world's fattest dog—the world's fattest saviour!

I saw a wall I knew very well, with a big bite chewed through the bottom, through which BigaByte now crawled. I squeezed myself through and the bees swarmed after me. And then we ran into the big room with the big pot full
of cow dung, which was making biogas to save the world. Well, it could start saving the world right now.

‘Nooo,' shouted a man in a lab coat and mask, ‘not again! Why does this kid love swimming in our cow dung?'

But I'd thrown myself into the gigantic pot. ‘Here Kitty,' I called to the bees, ‘come and bite me.' (Okay, so I must admit, in times of stress, I call every animal ‘Kitty'—it's a stupid habit, yes). And of course, all the bees, programmed as they were to sting their target, came flying in after me, into that mucky, yucky pot. What happened was that they got completely stuck, their wings coated, and as all of them swooped in, they just sank deeper and deeper and were buried in that cow dung. I'd never loved cow dung so much! Or BigaByte so much. BigaByte—he knew what he had to do by now—had chewed a big hole into the side of the pot so I could climb out.

‘Nooo,' cried the man in the lab coat, ‘we just had the last hole repaired!'

Tara Rumpum had also rushed in by then, aiming the camera so everyone could see what had happened on TV. I was a hero. Finally!

Tara Rumpum clapped her hands. ‘Brilliant! SuperZero, that was brilliant! What genius thinking! However did you think that up?'

‘To trap a bee, you've got to just think like a bee,' I said, shrugging modestly, till BigaByte gave me a slight nip on my ankle. ‘Ow, I mean, you've got to think like a dog.' I
glared at him. Typical of everyone around me to try and take away my glory—first Blank, now BigaByte.

‘The city is so proud of you!' Tara Rumpum gushed. ‘You've saved the most important news maker in this city—er—that is, me, and on behalf of all the good people everywhere, who can now come out of their homes, I am going to give you—a hug!'

Tara Rumpum threw her helmet off and came towards me, arms outstretched, while I grinned happily. I closed my eyes, waiting for the hug, which never came. I opened my eyes to see Tara Rumpum holding her nose, gagging. ‘Ugh, the smell! On second thought, let's give you that hug a little later, okay? After a week of scented baths.'

She turned towards the rolling camera and smiled broadly. ‘Good people, emerge from your holes, your homes, your offices. Come out and celebrate, for we have saved the city!'

We?

I was feeling quite annoyed at my grand moment being snatched away, and my hug too. So I closed my eyes and got that red-hot glow going, going, going—a huge ball of the cow dung from the pot just rose in a jet and flew across to splash across Tara Rumpum.

Ha, superpowers are pretty useful! Glaring at each other, Tara Rumpum and I made our way back to the city centre.

The streets were full of people this time. People who had come out of their houses and offices ran towards us. I was lifted up on the shoulders of strangers to be carried like a hero towards the city centre. (Except that no one carried me very long, because of the smell. They just quickly handed me over to the next eager, strong shoulder.)

BigaByte was also pampered silly, and people kept throwing him all sorts of things to eat. It started with biscuits and bread, which he swallowed in a gulp, till they began to get the idea, and threw anything at all—flowers, tomatoes, shoes, hats—and BigaByte sportingly ate all of them up.

Then, we finally reached the city centre, and the big dream came crashing down.

We'd forgotten all about evil Eggster, who stood in the middle of the crowd holding an old man by his arm. Gra! Gra must have wandered back, instead of finding his way home, and got lost. His bandages were falling off, and he
looked terribly confused.

‘I can't believe it . . . after all these years!' Eggster shouted to the crowds. ‘I have found my arch-enemy. The once powerful Grazor—look at him now. Now, we will have the fight of all fights! Put up your fists!'

Gra seemed to be more interested in pulling off the remaining bandages.

‘Fight, fight!' shouted Eggster, hopping around with his fists up.

‘Of course they're tight,' grumbled Gra. ‘You're much too round. You shouldn't wear such tight clothes and complain later!'

Eggster stopped. ‘Are you being funny?'

‘Very!' said Gra, ‘very, very, very sunny. And these bandages are making me feel even hotter.'

The crowd looked on silently. Many of the older people remembered the great days of the Grazor—could this really be the legendary superhero?

Eggster was getting more and more heated up. Then he suddenly swung out without warning and knocked Gra in the jaw, and I saw my kind old grandpa go tottering, his knees buckling, looking very puzzled. I couldn't take it anymore.

I jumped into the middle of the crowd and yelled, ‘Get away from him, you big bully!'

‘My grandson! I found you!' said Gra delightedly, straightening up again.

‘The frost-free freezer!' Eggster's jaw dropped. ‘You are the Grazor's grandson?'

The crowd gasped again.

I went charging at Eggster, my head lowered like a bull, and butted him in his stomach. But it was so well-padded that I just ended up bouncing back. Eggster laughed and grabbed my cape, with which he swung me round and round like a lasso. When he let me go, I went hurtling into the lamp post—oooh, that hurt!

Lying dazed, I looked up to see Eggster pull out a dagger, and once more the crowd gasped. (Crowds always do this thing—gasp—that's all they're good at.) He pointed it towards Gra.

‘No,' I shouted. ‘No, leave him alone. Come and get me!'

By now, even the superkids had arrived. Anna Conda shouted, ‘Go, SuperZero, go!' But a buzz in my ear told me otherwise.

‘Let it go, SuperZero, just stay out of this. This is an old fight that needs to be settled now.' The Fly, always wise, nodded sadly.

‘No,' I cried, close to tears, ‘you don't understand. He is not that great hero any more. He's forgotten it all. He's just the sweetest old man in the world now.'

Eggster waved the dagger at Gra, in front of all those people. ‘For thirty years, I have dreamed of doing this, Grazor! Now it will end here and I will finally be the
winner.' He advanced on Gra, who looked back at him, not understanding anything at all.

I closed my eyes then and used the superpower that I had inherited from the sweetest old man in the world.

The crowd burst out laughing. Eggster's dagger had turned into an orange carrot! He stared at it.

A voice cut into the laughter. Tara Rumpum got back to reporting. ‘This is the work of the wonder boy—our city's newest, super-est hero. The funny boy who does funny things—to things. A dagger into a carrot! What genius! SuperZero, everyone—give him a hand!' And in
the applause that started, no one expected the absolutely enraged Eggster to dive out towards me. He whipped out his gun and held it to my throat. ‘Don't anyone come near!' He shouted. ‘This boy has been spoiling my plans from the beginning. Like grandfather, like grandson. I will have no fun killing that old man but now—this boy—yes—he has to die!'

Eggster continued his screeching, ‘Don't anyone take a step forward or I shoot him.' I saw the crowd wide-eyed, but helpless. Anna Conda was in tears, Blank in patches. The gun poked at my throat. I was choking. And when you're choking, you can't really think straight. No. Boxes wouldn't help now, nor would fountains. It wasn't fair. I had just turned into a superhero—I couldn't possibly have the shortest superhero stint in the history of all heroes. But when Eggster's finger began to tighten on the trigger, something unbelievable happened.

The lamp post behind us bent itself in half and whammed Eggster good and proper right across his egg head! He left me, fell backwards and blacked out.

I stared in disbelief. I knew for sure that I had done nothing this time. I had been too busy choking. The Fly? No, that wasn't his superpower—no one else had this rare power of molly-whatever. Only me, and of course, all those years back, the Grazor.

The Grazor? I turned slowly towards Gra, who stood
over me, smiling. He put out a wrinkled hand to help me up.

‘You? You did that? You can still do that?' I whispered.

‘What hat? Oh yes, it really is sunny, must find my hat,' Gra said. And then he looked me straight in the eye for one moment—that stood still—and winked.

We left the place, walking home hand-in-hand (and hand-in-paw too, since BigaByte wouldn't be left out of this). I saw the police leading Eggster away, and the cameras kept recording every last bit.